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LOPEZ AND WEMYSS' EDITION.' 



* Efjc fitting ^ttteritau EJjeatre. 
No. v. 



MARMION; 

THE BATTLE OF FLODDEN FIELD. 

A DRAMA, 
IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY JAMES N. BARKER, Esq. 



WITH 

A PORTRAIT OF MR. DUFF, 

IN THE 

CHARACTER OF MARMION. 



THE PLATS CAREFULLY COBBECTED FROM THE PROMPT BOOKS OF THE 
PHILADELPHIA THEATRE. 

BY M. LOPEZ, PROMPTER. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

published bt a. r. poole, and ash & mason: p. thompson, 

Washington: h. w. bool, Baltimore: e. m. murden, new 

york, for the proprietors, and to be had of 

all the principal booksellers in 

the united states. 



PRICE TO NON-SUBSCRIBElts, F1FTT CENTS. 



At the commencement of our undertaking, we pledged ourselves 
to the public, to spare no expense to render the work worthy of 
their notice ; and in presenting the fifth number to our friends and 
patrons, we trust they will allow we have redeemed our pledge. 
The engravings are executed by Longacre and Durand, from 
paintings by Neagle, taken expressly for this work, and which we 
feel a proud satisfaction in being able to pronounce equal, if not 
superior, to the portraits prefixed to Oxberry's English Drama. In 
the typographical department of the work, we have endeavoured 
to remedy those faults which were so much complained of, am 
hope to improve with every succeeding number. 

The delay which has taken place was the necessary consequence 
of an undertaking so arduous and expensive. It has arisen solely 
from the difficulty of procuring the plates from the hands of the 
engravers at the stated time ; and inconvenient as it has been, it 
will be productive of good, in enabling us to guard against disap- 
pointment in future. Those only who have been engaged in the 
duties of publication, can form an idea of the difficulty we have 
encountered, and the disadvantages we have laboured under; 
having successfully combatted, and in a great measure surmounted 
these, the publication will proceed with despatch and regularity. 



TERMS. 

A Number will be published every four weeks, and oftener if 
possible, embellished with a portrait every way equal to those 
already before the public, at thirty-seven and a half cents to sub- 
scribers, and fifty cents to non-subscribers. 

Each Number to be paid for on delivery. 

A few impressions of each plate will be printed on fine paper, 
for the purpose of framing. 





MI? IE) WMF < 

AS MJlIlMIOJ\ r 



Engraved "by A. HI jut and from a painting hy JJSTeaglc 
Lopez & Wemyss 1 Edition. 

1326 

JStgkc sound. 



/ 

LOPEZ AND WEMYSS' EEITIOK. 



CONTAINING THE 

MOST POPULAR PLAYS, 

«#«s they are performed at the Philadelphia Theatre; 

CAREFULLY CORRECTED 
AND PUBLISHED FROM THE PROMPT BOOKS ; 
AND ACCOMPANIED WITH 

LIKENESSES OF DISTINGUISHED PERFORMERS, 

IN CHARACTERS, 

ENGRAVED FROM PORTRAITS EXECUTED FOR THE WORK; 

BY EMINENT ARTISTS. 



BY M. LOPEZ, PROMPTER, 



OF THE PHILADELPHIA AND BALTIMORE THEA1 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED BY A. R. POOLE, AND ASH & MASON : P. THOMPSON, 

■WASHINGTON : H. W. BOOL, B ALTIMORE : E. M. MURDEN, NEW 

YORK, FOR THE PROPRIETORS, AND TO BE HAD OF 

ALL THE PRINCIPAL BOOKSELLERS IN 

THE UNITED STATES. 

1826 



Eastern District of Pennsylvania, to toit: 

BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the third day of April, in the Fiftieth year of 
the Independence of the United States of America, A. D. 1826, Mathias Lopez and 
Francis C, Wemyss* of the said District, have deposited in this office, the title of a 
Book, the right whereof they ciaim as proprietors, in the words following-, to wit :•— 

** Lopez and JVemyss'' Edition* Acting American Theatre, containing the most popu- 
M lar plays, as they are performed at the Philadelphia Theatre; carefully corrected and 
** published from the Prompt Books; and accompanied with likenesses of distinguished 
" Performers, in characters, engraved from portraits executed for the 7vork % by end' 
" ncnt artists. By M. Lopez, Prompter, of the Philadelphia and Baltimore Theatres" 

In Conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, " An Act 
for the Encouragement of Learning, hy securing the Copies of Maps, Charts, and 
Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies, during the timess therein men- 
tioned." And also to the Act, entitled, " An Act supplementary to An Act, entitled 
'* An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps. Charts 
and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies during the times therein 
mentioned, and extending the Benefits thereof to ihe Arts of designing, engraving, 
and etching historical and other Prints/' 

D. CALDWELL, 

* Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



LOPEZ AND WEMYSS* EDITION. 

7 — — — 
2TJ)e &tttng ^metfeau &ljeatm 



MARMION; 



THE BATTLE OF FLODDEN FIELD 



A DRAMA, 
IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY JAMES N. BARKER, Esq. 



A PORTRAIT OF MR. DUFF. 

IN THE 

CHARACTER OF MARMION, 



1H£ PLAYS CAREFULLY CORRECTED FROM THE PROMPT BOOKS OF THE 
PHILADELPHIA THEATRE. 

BY M. LOPEZ, PROMPTER. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED BY A. R. POOLE, AND ASH & MASON: P. THOMPSON, 

WASHINGTON: H. W. BOOL, BALTIMORE: E. M. MURDEN, NEW 

YORK, FOR THE PROPRIETORS, AND TO BE HAD OF 

ALL THE PRINCIPAL BOOKSELLERS IN 

THE UNITED STATES. 



PRICE TO NON-SUBSCRIBERS, F1FTT CENTS. 

e i s a 4 * 



*N 



T^ 



3 






JESPER HARDING, PRINTER. 



PERSONS REPRESENTED, 



1826. 
Philadelphia. 

Marmion Mr. Duff. 

King James Mr. Fielding". 

i^-De Wilton Mr. Wood. 

* Earl Douglas Mr. Warren. 

Earl Surrey. Mr. Webb. 

Edmund Howard .Mr. Bignal. 

Fitz-Eustace Mr. Garner. 

Blunt Mr. J. Jefferson 

— Lindsay Mr. Hathwell. 

Marchrnont Mr. Porter. 

Pursuivant Mr. Murray. 

Abbot Mr. Wheatly. 

Host .Mr. Mestayer. 

Usher Mr. Collins. 

Monks Messrs. Parker, Meer, Sec 

Lords, knights, citizens, heralds, pursuivants, trumpeters, masques, 
boys, monks, soldiers. 

Constance Mrs. Wood. 

Clara Mrs. Anderson. 

Lady Heron Mrs. Burke. 

Abbess Mrs. Mestayer. 

Prioress Mrs. Jefferson . 

Jannett Miss Hathwell. 

Ladies, nuns, masques, &c Mrs. Meer, Miss Mestayers, &c 



A X 



STAGE DIRECTIONS, 



By R. H.... ....... ..is meant Right Hand. 

1. h Left Hand. 

s. e Second Entrance 

v. e Upper Entrance. 

m. d Middle Door. 

x>. f Door in Flat. 

r. h. d Right Hand Door, 

i. h. d Left Hand Door. 



Time of representation. — Two hours and thirty minutes. 



MARMION. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. 

The interior of St. Cuthberfs Abbey. The archi- 
tecture of the Saxon style. At the extremity of 
the apartment, an arcade supported by short 
massive pillars. Jis the day dawns, the sea is 
partially descried through a large window. The 
matin song closing. Blunt enters r. h.; stops 
and listens. 

Blunt. So : there's an end, I hope. — Hear it St, 
Cuthbert, 
And speed our journey. — Welcome at last, Fitz-Eus- 
tace ! 

Enter Fitz-Eustace, through the arch. Centre. 

Is the mass sung, and our lord Marmion blest 
With bell and book and candle? 

Bus. All is over. 

Why did you leave the chapel ? 

Blunt. Faith ! because 

The nuns, sweet souls, were veiled ; and the old abbot, 
He pater-nostered me out of all patience. (Music.) 

(Monks and Nuns pass behind the grating of the 
centre door from r. h. to l. h. as if from the cha- 
pel.) 

Ay, there the drones go, humming to their cells. 



8 MARMION. [Barker. 

I marvel Marmion stays; the lav'rock fife 
Sounded reveille, full an hour ago — 
The east is purpled like a friar's face; 
Besides, the sea will soon surround the isle. 
Where lingers Marmion? 

Eus. After the service, 

Lord Marmion sought a converse with the abbot. 

Blunt. And what a plague has he to say to monks,, 
Now, when he should be parleying with monarchs! 
Did not the last night's courier bring him order 
For instant setting out? — 

Eus. He did ; and scarce 

Breathed his fleet horse, ere he was gone again, 
To seek the king's lieutenant, noble Surrey. — 
Our English chivalry will soon be up, 
With faces toward the Tweed. — The Scottish king 
Must to our lord explain, or Surrey's cannon 
Will thunder repetition of his question. 

Blunt. Now, gude St. Andrew, with your bonny 
thistle, 
Prickle his Scottish blood, and give us war. 

( The Palmer crosses in front of the arch from 
u. e. r. h. to l. h. and Exits) 

Eus, Behold our guide — 

Blunt. Our guide ! 

Eus. A pious Palmer, 

Who, on his way to shrines beyond the Forth, 
Turned from his path to sleep in Holy Isle. 
He travels last from Rome — but Palestine 
And Egypt he has traversed. 

Blunt Marry, who is he ? 

Eus. I know not: but the monks do shrink from 
him 
As he were not of clay. They say, all night, 
Within his cell, were muttering voices heard, 
And stifled groans, and sounds inimitable 
By mortal organ. 

Blunt. I've not heard his voice, 



Jiet. /.J MARMION. 9 

But such an eye ! — while he knelt in the chapel, 
I caught a glimpse of it beneath his cowl — 
It chilled me like an ague — but no matter, 
If he but guide us straight to Holy-rood. 
No Marmion yet ! Can he then flag in duty — 
Marmion — the hero — who before his king, 
Proved in the combat-lists de Wilton's treason, 
And robbed him of his life, and won his lady ! — 

Eus. Not so, good Blunt — the beauteous lady Clare, 
Doting on Wilton's memory, flies our lord, 
Resisting the king's mandate. — 

Blunt. Yet he'll have her; 

He's a shrewd gamester that way — 

Eus. Peace, you prater. 

Blunt. His pretty page, young Constant, who so 
long 
[las followed him — have you not marked of late, 
How sad she seems ? — 

JEus. She seems ! 

Blunt. Psha! he — the boy, 
Methinks our lord grows cool 

Eus. No more of this. 

If you must prattle, choose a fitter theme — 
A squire's discourse should be of deeds of arms. 

Blunt, Well ! let me see a field — 'tis all I ask — 
And if I pick not up a pair of spurs, 
May my good steed, for very lack of them, 
Stand like a stock in the charge — and you pass by me. 

Eus. But see — our lord ! 

Blunt. Praise be to Reverend Cuthbert. 

Music. Enter Marmion, u. e. l. h. attended by a 
Page, eight Soldiers, two Officers, and the 
Abbot. The Soldiers and Officers range two deep 
across the stage, in front of arch. The Palmer 
folloivs and remains behind the Soldiers. 

Mar. (r. h.) Now on toward Scotland. — Holy, Sir, 
farewell 






10 MARMION. IBarker. 

Jib. (l. h.) Shall Scotland long detain our gentle 
son ? 

Mar. Till James disperse his swarm of mountain- 
eers, 
Or warlike Surrey call me to his side. 

Jib. Alas ! what madness can possess man's brain 
To war against his brother ! 

Mar. But, good Abbot, 

We go in search of peace. 

Jib. The cherub dwells 

With gentleness, and meek humility. 

Mar. Ay, in the cloister these are fit companions — 
But in the world it lives with firm decision, 
With manly readiness, and bold defiance. — 
Never did coward know security, 
For cold inaction but invites the blow. — 
Besides, our monarch's is the cause of justice. 

Ab. Then it will be successful. Heaven itself 
Wars for the righteous. 

Mar. Ever, Reverend Sir, 

Truth must prevail. 

Pal. {in a deep hollow voice) Dare Marmion say 
that? 

Music. Marmion starts, and crosses to l. h. The 
Abbot raises his hands i?i horror. The Soldiers in 
consternation open to the right and left, and dis- 
cover the Palmer leaning on his staff, his eyes 
fitted on Marmion. His dress is sable, with St. 
Peter's keys in red ; his cowl conceals most part 
of his face. 

jib. Who doubts Heaven's justice ? 

Pal. Listen, father, listen — 

Even in holy Palestine I saw it — 
A weak and wasted minister of Heaven, 
(By fasting weak, wasted by midnight prayer,) — 
Slain by a foe to truth, a Saracen. 

Jib. Thrice-blessed martyr! 

Pal. True ; and yet the guilty 



*<?c/. /.] M ARM ION. II 

Triumphed, and lived, and, in the face of heaven, 
Dared talk of truth and justice. 

Mar. {much disturbed) Sound to horse! — {Music.) 

Marmion gives orders to Blunt and Fitz-Eustace, 
ivho Exeunt r. h. Bugle. . Music. As soon as the 
music commences, Marmion' s train Exeunt r. h. 
Marmion walks up. The P timer is the last to 
retire. Marmion, as he comes down, shrinks from 
his gaze — then collecting himself, approaches the 

* Abbot, and grasps his hand earnestly. 

Mar. Abbot, remember. 

Jib. Son, depend upon me. 

Mar. Dare not deceive me, — Now, unhappy victim,, 
Dear to my heart, but bar to my ambition, 
Farewell, for ever ! — 

Con. {without l. h.) Stay, lord Marmion, stay ! 

Music. Marmion starts. Consta?ice appears at 
the lower end of the stage, wild and haggard, from 
u. e. l. h. Her dress the livery of Marmion. 
Prioress follows. 

Mar. Did you not tell me, Abbot, she was safe ? 

Ab. Not mine the fault, my lord. I gave strict 
charge — 

Pri. Even at the bugle's sound, with frenzy's force, 
She burst away. — 

Jib. Daughter, retire with me, 

Con. I have a solemn secret to impart 
To the lord Marmion — to him alone. {Music.) 

Abbot and Prioress Exeunt u. e. l. h. — a pause — 
a strain of music, commencing wildly, and clos- 
ing with tenderness ; Constance rushes to Mar- 
mio?i, and falls at his feet, seizing his mantle. 

Con. Marmion ! 

Mar. {with averted face) Nay, Constance — 

Con. Look upon me, Marmion ! 



1£ MARMION. [Barker. 

Turn to the wretch that you have made. — They tell 

me — 
But 0, how false — abandoned here, by thee! 
It cannot be, Marmion, it cannot be. 
Speak to me, but 0, God, — do not confirm it. — 
My heart will burst! — Marmion, you do not mean it? 

Mar. Constance, arise and spare yourself — spare 
me. 

Con. Behold your crest, badge, of my willing service* 
Have I not followed you with love and duty, 
The pride of birth, the modesty of sex, 
Clouding content in Marmion's livery? 
If what of female grace once here, be lost, 
Guilt and disguise for thee, Marmion, for thee 
Have blasted it. — Scorn not the withered flower 
Yourself have rifled. From this faded cheek 
Marmion has chased the blood of innocence, 
Lighted in these wild eyes despair and frenzy, 
And on my hardened brow stamped infamy ! — 

Mar. No more— peace, frantic girl — of what 
avail ? 

Con. Marmion, Pve loved thee dearer than my 
soul- — 
I bartered it for thee, and gave, besides, 
All earthly I possessed. — Did I repent? 
no ! while Marmion loved, fame, friends forgot, 
*Twas him alone I saw- — on Marmion's breast, 
Thought of no other heaven ! 

Mar. Hear me, Constance. 
The power that we have scorned, at length is roused; 
The church demands its daughter, and religion 
Bids us, though great the sacrifice, submit. 
Light penances, but chiefly solitude, 
On you will shed tranquillity — for me 

Marmion'* s eyes meet the penetrating and indignant 
look of Constance ; he pauses disconcerted. 

Con. And what for you ; — Religion bids ! — Cool 
hypocrite ! 



Act /.] MARMION. 13 

Your expiations what? The bridal pomp, 
The charm of beauty, and the smile of love ? 
Man, man, despair ! That time shall never come — 
The lip is cold whose pressure you expect, 
The eye is closed whose lustre you would meet. 
Mourn o'er the ruin of your high raised-hopes, 
Your sanctioned, honourable, rich alliance : 
Clara de Clare is dead 

Mar. Unhappy Constance ! 

Go, raise those hands in thankfulness to Him, 
Whose mercy yet has kept them clear from blood. 
The wretch you trusted with your plan of death, 
Has, for a bribe, betrayed it. 

Con. Ha ! betrayed ! — 

Mar. 0, from my soul I pity you. [going r. h. 

Con. One moment ! 

Yet there is one way left — but ! that way ! — [aside. 
Bethink you, Marmion, by my wrongs I charge you, 
Release me, take me from this dreadful place ; 

By our past loves, by all your solemn vows 

Smile you, inhuman man? — But scorn me not; 
Though dead to tenderness, let danger rouse thee. 
Think you I rave ? Lo ! here, before high heaven, 
I make a vow irrevocable 

Mar. Hold ! 

Threats I can never fear; but yet forbear, 
Nor cast your nature all at once aside; 
And if you bend, be it in supplication, 
And if you vow, 0, be it to renew 
That sacred oath, which, to our dear souls' peril, 
I caused you to infringe. — Ho ! father Abbot! — 

Con. Have you no mercy ! — then expect none, 
Marmion. 
You drag down your own fate. 

Mar. Why, let it fall then. 

Con. Death! 

Mar. I can meet it. 

Con. On the scaffold ? 

Mar. Ay. (Music.) 

B 



14 MARM1' 

The Abbot and Prioress enter, r. e. l. h. and by 
direction of Marmion, attempt to remove Con- 
stance ; she clings to hi??i. 

Con. Cruel, but ever dear, have mercy, mercy ! 

Marmio . ::ges himself and delivers her to 

them. 

Mar. With all the gentleness your rules allow, 
I do adjure thee Abbot, on thy life. 
Lead back this tender penitent to peace. 

Con. Peace I disclaim, repentance I desp is 
Fell moi end, look to thyself! 

_Mv body's ruin, and my soul's destruction, 

2jh on thy soul in the dark hour of death ! M 

They lead her off. r. e. l. h. Marmion gaz 
after her. 

\ Her curse was heavy: but more welcome 
curses, 

Than to the sated lover dull endearment 
:h doting fond rk ng 'gai si 

Still dashes with her tears to make more nauseous. 

Freed from the weight that kept it down to earth. 

Ambition now may d, like the eagle. 

Bask in the bright sun's beam. For this poor lost one, 

Not I, by heaven, but Nat : blame: 

She in the young heart throws those seeds of passion, 

That shoot to rankness ere slow Reason come 

To weed the soil. And love, unlicensed love, 

Is her free product: nor can mortal knc 

What loathsome fruit its lovely bios eld, 

Till taste convince the leep, remc 

And now. my promised bride, my beautions 

With my king's sanction, and mine own resolve, 

Nor cell, nor veil, shall tear me from thy ar: 

ter Blunt, r. h. 

Now, Blunt? 

Blunt. Please you, my lord, the morning we;.: 



Act. /.] MARMION. 18 

Enter Fitz-Eustace. r. h. 

Eus. My lord, your fa v'rite boy. Constant, is missing. 
Mar. He goes not with us. 
Ens. Sir! 

Mar. His youth is tender; 

His health is weak, the northern air is keen. 

Ens. Poor Constant, we shall miss him much, my 

lord, 
Mar. Prepare my train, Fitz-Eustace, and set for- 
ward. {Music.) [Exeunt, r. h. 

Enter Abbot and Prioress u. e. l. h. 

Jib. At length they pass the gate; now is her fate 
Most certain. 

Pri. Ay, what is it? 

Jib. Can you ask? 

Pri. I know the statute, brother, though I feared 
Her expiation might not reach her crime; 
For well I marked lord Marmion's earnest charge, 
And heard your promise, Abbot. 

Jib. Heaven seems to summon here its ministers, 
And asks a speedy doom. Less than a miracle 
Could never bring at once to Holy Isle 
Yourself and the good abbess of St. Hilda. 

Pri. When comes the abbess? 

Jib. This blest night as wont, 

She holds with us the vigil of our saint. 
Even now the rising wave that shuts out Marmion 
May bear her galley hither. 

{Distant Music.) 

Pri. Hark ! a strain 

Comes floating on the billow! {Music.) 

Jib. >Tis the Abbess. 

Her maidens chant St. Hilda's song — and see — 
A galley nears the Isle. — Go we to greet her 
In solemn troop, with banner, cross, and relique. 

( Exeunt, r. h. u. e. 



16 M ARM ION. [Barker. 

Scene II. 

Ji profile of the Abbey, with an ample view of the 
sea. Ji flight of steps leads to a terrace, which 
is crowded with Monks and Nuns. Music, 

Chorus of Nuns j without. 

Thy voice can bid the storm subside, 
Can hush the wind, and lull the tide. 

While the chorus is responded by those of St. Cuth- 
berfs, the galley appeal's. On the deck sits the 
Abbess of St. Hilda, attended by Nuns. The vi- 
vacity of the Sisters contrasted by the desponden- 
cy of Clara, who, in the dress of a Novice, reclines 
on the vessePs side. 

Chant by Nuns of St. Hilda. 

When storms impel our mortal barque, 
And near the rock, and high the wave, 

And hope is lost, and all is dark, 

'Tis thou the sinking soul canst save. 

Thou bidst our sinful terrors cease, 
And guidest to a port of peace. 

Music. The troop descend from the terrace, and 
meet the Nuns of St. Hilda. The Monks and 
Nuns of St. Cuthbert range on the r. h. those of 
St. Hilda on l. h. 

%B.b. Sister, His plain St. Benedict himself 
Assembles here a chapter of his order 
For a most solemn purpose. 

Abb. How, good Abbot ! 

Jib. A nun, a violator of his law, 
Awaits her doom. 

Abb. Alas ! 

*#6. What, sister ! grieve you 

That guilt should meet its punishment? 

Mb. I grieve 

There should be guilt to punish. 



Act. /.] MARMION. 17 

Pri. How could mercy 

Act without object, sister ? — Life is sin. 

Abb. Shall sinful nature then, judge sinful nature? 

Jib. Sisters, no more ; the church is bound to both — 
Sway may, perhaps, abate its energy, 
But to extend its scope; softness attracts: 
Thus votaries throng our gentle sister's cells. 
E'en now, methinks, I see among her train 
A pensive novice. 

Abb. 'Tis the orphan Clare, 

Of noble birth, and mind that well befits it ; — 
Heiress of boundless wealth, and equal virtues. 

Ab. What argument could win her from the world — 
What art allure ? 

Abb. No art, no argument; 

'Twas nature urgM — her wounded heart that sued. 
Pursued by him who slew her early love — 
And, worse, destroyed his fame, she sought my con- 
vent, 
And, her probation over, hides her sorrow 
Beneath the veil. 

Ab. Heav'n aid her. — Sisters, come. (Music.) 

The procession meet in the centre. Abbot leads^ and 
Exeunt by the terrace. 



END OF ACT I. 



B 2 



18 MARMION. [Barker. 

ACT II. 

Scene I. 

A Scottish Hostel. */i large fire-place. Tables and 
benches set. Jiround the room are disposed swords 
and* spears, bows, bucklers, fyc. From the rafters 
hang dried fish, fowls, venison, and boars 9 heads ; 
implements of housewifery scattered about. The 
host is bowing at door in Flat, as if taking leave of 
parting guests. 

Hos. Neighbours, good-night; fair rest my canty 
neighbours. 

The cock will wake you soon ; so tell your wives 

To spare their larums. 

Enter Jannet from d. 3d e. l. h. 

Jan. Such carousing ! — father, 

D'ye know the night's half spent ? 

Hos. Well, lassie, well ! — 

Then I've spent half the night like a true host. — 
See all be safe, and then to bed. 

Jan. (at a window in flat) 0, father ! 

A gallant troop appears upon the height ! 
I see them by the moon ! how their arms glitter ! 

Hos. They '11 spy my sign — they'll be my customers. 
Old Clifford castle gives no entertainment; 
The laird's in camp, the lady bars her doors, 
They needs must stop with me. 

Jan. 0, father ! now, 

Two horsemen leave the troop, and gallop hither. 

Hos. I knew it, girl — they've seen my bush. Come, 
come, 
Look to your housewifery, bestir, bestir. 

[Knocking. Blunt speaks ivithout. 

Blunt. Hallo ! who keeps the house—who keeps 
the bush ? 
Uncover here, hallo ! 

Hos. {opening the door in fiat) Who beats the 
bush ? 



Act //.] MARM10N. 19 

Come in. 

Enter Blunt and Fitz-Eustace. d. f. 

Blunt. Come in ! to be well fleec'd, I warrant, 
Good Mr. Bramble-bush. — Thistle, thy sign 
Is a bad sign, for good wine needs no bush. 

Hos. Your English stomach still dislikes Scotch 
fare. 
The boy grew sick when he looked on the birch. 

Blunt. You sting, good weed* Do thistles bear 
such flowers? {Goes up to Jannet. 

Bus. Host, we are in the suite of the lord Marmion, 
Envoy from England to the Scottish court; 
Our haste has pushed us on as far as Clifford, 
Whose widowed towers deny expected access. 
Can you receive us ? 

Hos. Ay, were he the king: 

His honour shall be royally received. 
What, Jannet, girl — how now ! — wake little Sandy, 
And Donald lad, — wring them up by the lugs. 
Heap on more faggots — set the flaggons out — 
Look to your butt'ry and your beds — come, bustle. 
(Jannet Exit 2d e. r. h. Bugle sounds without. 

Exeunt Blunt and Fitz-Eustace d. f.) 

Hos. My bonnet, good St. Andrew, for this hap! 
(Music.) [Follows them. 

(Jannet returns with the boys half asleep ; they set 
out the flaggons, fyc.) 

Enter Marmion, d. f. conducted by the Host, and at- 
tended by Blunt, Fitz-Eustace, two Officers, 
eight Soldiers, a Page, and the Palmer. He is 
shown to the great chair, which is placed by the 
Host on the l. h. of the table. His followers take 
places at the tables, but remain standing. The 
Palmer remains in the back ground, with his eyes 
constantly fixed upon Marmion. 

Mar. Nay, sit; it is the license of the place — 



20 MARMION. [Barker. 

Carouse and revel as ye march and fight, 
Lustily, cheerfully, it is your meed. (Music.) 
Give me a cup — charge, all, and pledge me round. 

[Music. 

Marmion rises to drink; his eye encounters the 
Palmer } s, ivhose influe?ice arrests his attention 
for a moment, and he slowly resumes his seat. 
He at length rouses himself. 

Mar. Edward ! 

Eus. My lord ! 

Mar. Pry'thee have you no lay 

To speed the lagging hour with? 

Ens. Good, my lord. 

Tho' poor my skill, I'll sing the strain you love, 
The favorite lay of our poor absent Constant. 

Song. Words by Walter Scott. 

Where shall the lover rest, whom the fates sever, 
From his true maiden's breast parted for ever? 
Where, thro* groves deep and high, sounds the far billow, 
Where early violets die, under the willow. 

CHORUS. 

Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow. 

There, through the summer day, cool streams are laving; 
There, to the tempest's swa) r , scarce are boughs waving; 
There, thy rest shalt thou take, parted for ever, 
Never again to wake, never, O never. 

CHORUS. 

Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never. 

Where shall the traitor rest, he the deceiver, 

Who could win maiden's breast, ruin, and leave her? 

In the lost battle, borne down by the flying, 

Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying. 

CHORUS. 

Eleu loro, he. There shall he be lying. 

Her wing shall the eagle flap o'er the false-hearted; 
His warm blood the wolf shall lap, ere life be parted. 
Shame and dishonour set by his grave ever; 
Blessing shall hallow it, never, O never. 

CHORUS. 

Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never. 



Act, //.] MARMION. 21 

During the song, Marmion is violently affected ; 
he casts his mantle before his eyes, and reclines 
his head upon his hand. After the song — as if 
in scorn of his weakness, he throws his mantle 
from his face, and assumes an easy air. 

Mar. Edward, you do your powers disparagement, 
For yours are wizard strains. Each note you breathed 
Fell on my ear like beat of convent bell, 
Tolling; a soul's departure. Was't an omen? 
What might it mean ? — 

Pal. (solemnly) The death of a dear friend. — [Music. 

All start and turn their eyes upon the Palmer, who 
remains motionless. Marmion is agitated to 
agony ; he rises, as if to give an order, but again 
casts himself upon his seat, covering his eyes. — A 
pause. 

Blunt. Now, this it is to visit foreign parts ; 
Our homely colleges teach no such art ; 
From travel, each comes home a conjurer. 

Hos. Good youth, you need not travel far to learn, 
There be such things that now you seem to scorn. 
Not far from hence, a man may know his fate. 

Blunt. From whom ? 

Hos. A being, that the earth owns not. 

Mar. Of w T hat d'ye speak ? 

Blunt, Of goblins, dear, my lord ! 
Gentry, who cannot pass, it seems, the Tweed — 
'Tis holy water to them. 

Hos. You may scoff. 
But if averment of tradition, tales ; 
And legends, all agreeing, stand for aught; 
Near to our village here, there is a spot — 
? Tis called the Pictish Camp — where every night, 
From Curfew, till the cock doth scare him thence, 
A demon rides his round. Such ventrous Knight, 
Who seeks the rampart, and there winds his bugle, 
The fiend will answer with his blast — then forth 
Ln form of his worst enemy he comes ; 



22 MARMION. [Barker. 

His lance in rest — ready for the career. 
(And wo to him whose heart feels craven fear,) 
But should he conquer, and if bold, he will, 
Ask what he may the fiend must satisfy him. 

Mar. 'Tis late ; get ye to rest : good night to all. 

[music. 

Soldiers go up stairs 3d e. r. h. conducted by boys. 
Blunt and Jannet exchange significant signs. 
Marmion orders Fitz-Eustace to remain. Ex- 
eunt all but Marmion and Fitz-Eustace. */2s the 
Palmer goes up stairs he menaces Marmion apart. 

Mar. Eustace, you heard the tale our host recounted 
Of the warlike fiend who haunts the neighbourhood — 
Who answers to the bugle, and appears 
In form of the worst foe of him who calls ? 

Eus. Yes, my good lord. 

Mar. Methought he said, if vanquished, 
The fiend must answer all his conqueror asks ? — 
Was it not so ? 

Eus. It was, my lord. 

Mar. {aside) If Wallace — 

The cool, sage Wallace has had faith ! — (to Fitz- 
Eustace) Pll ride. 
Saddle my steed. — 

Eus. (surprised) My lord, shall I attend you ? 

Mar. No: bring my horse; — but, silently, Fite- 
Eustace — 
I would not that the vulgar should presume 
To claim me for their fellow in belief. 
Go, Edward, go. [Exit Fitz-Eustace d. f. 

My injured Constance ! — for ! I fear 
That dauntless spirit that dared all for me, 
Has armed thy desperate hand, — or, worse — may not 
Those savage monks ! — If I thought that, by heaven 
Not the king's mandate, nor the empire's safety, 
Should keep me from thee ! but I rave — they dare not— 
They dare not, for their island, scorn my charge, 
Even to the harming of one golden hair.— 



Act //.] MARMION. 23 

Yet, could mere chance, with solemn augury, 
Confirm my bosom's dark forebodings? — never! 
I'll seek this fiend — one way I'm satisfied — 
Meeting the oracle, I learn the worst ; 
Failing, my faith and terrors die together. 

[Exit Marmion. d. f. 

Enter Blunt, down the stairs, 3d e. r. h. stealing cautiously 
in ; he goes to the door of Jannefs apartment, l. h. and 
taps. 

Blunt Hist! Jannet, bonny Jannet — 

Jan. [entering cautiously} Hush ! I heard 

But now, a voice, e'en here. 

Blunt. It was my voice. 

Jan. Nay it was loud and hoarse. 

Blunt. My groans, my dear, 

For thy long absence. 

Jan. Mocker, get you gone. 

Blunt. But thou art come — thus let me thank thee, 
Jannet. [kissing her.] 

Jan. Thus I've my thanks, and thus I go again. 

Blunt. Again to come as now you came to go? 

Jan. No. 

Blunt. Then, my girl, egad we part not so.— 
Or go, but take me with thee, Jannet. 

Jan. No. 

Blunt. You promised — 

Jan. What? 

Blunt. To meet me. 

Jan. I have done it. 

Farewell, ere I repent. 

Blunt. Nay, fly not — fear not, 

Jan. I'll fly before I fear. 

Blunt. But hear me, hear me. 

I promise — 

Jan. What? 

Blunt. To love thee — love thee dearly. 

This room is monstrous cold — thy chamber, Jannet — 
Pry'thee be kind. 



24 M ARM ION. [Barker. 

Jan. I will be, to myself. 

Blunt. And not to me ? 

Jan. Why, if I were, how long 

Would you be so to me ? 

Blunt. For ever, 'faith ! 

Come, come, by heaven, you are not in your sphere — 

Jan. I aim at none above. 

Blunt. The more you merit 

The rank that I would give you. 

Jan. When ? 

Blunt. When, Jannet! 

0, when I come of age. 

Jan. Meanwhile— ? 

Blunt. We'll— love. 

Jan. Hadn't we better wait till you're of age ? 

Blunt. You don't believe me. 

Jan. No; indeed I don't. 

Blunt. I swear by all that's true ! do you not wish 
To change this obscure inn — this rustic garb, 
For a distinguished place — gorgeous attire? 

Jan. A crowded kirk — a stool — and a white sheet ! 

Blunt. By Jove, you little snow-ball, heating me, 
You grow more icy. — Pr'ythee, meet a little. 

Jan. Hark ! hark ! — a noise [rums to her chamber^ 
Good-night, young gentleman, 
And don't forget me, when you come of age. 

[Exit Jannet d. 3d e. l. h. 

Blunt. Egad ! she's locked the door. 
Strange girl — strange sex, 
Well, good-night, cupid ; 
I'll to my straw, and dream of feather beds. 

[Exit Blunt up the stairs. 

Scene II — a wild heath. 

Music. Enter Marmion. r. h. 

Mar. This is the place ; some strange mysterious 
feeling: 



Act II.] M ARM ION. . U 

Has drawn me, e'n n gainst my reason, hither. 
How wild the spot — how silent all around ! 
No marvel then, that village superstition 
Gives to its fiends a haunt where mortal foot 
Would scarcely dare to tread. — I'll haste to quit it, 
Lest its contagious gloom reach my free thought. 
But hold ! I have not yet performed the rite 
Which elfin chivalry demands. — Three blasts — 
[Marmion soimds his bugle — a pause — Marmion is 

going — distant bugle sounds,'] 
It cannot be — 'twas but the distant echo 
Of my own bugle — horror ! what form is this ? {Music.) 

[An armed knight appears, u. e. r. h.] 
Why ay, 'twas even such a form he wore 
Who fell in Cotswold field, my direst foe. — 
Sure 'tis imposture all. This to discover. {Music.} 

Combat, Marmion* s lance is shivered against the shield of 
the knight. Marmion becomes desperate; the fight is re- 
newed with swords ; Marmion is overthrown ; the knight 
places his foot upon Marmion' s neck; raises his vizor, 
and is about to strike, but checks himself; Marmion 
swoons with horror ; the knight retires ; r. h. u. e. Mar- 
mion slowly recovers. 

Mar. 'Twas not a dream — by heaven, it was De 
Wilton !— 

His foot was on my neck — his falchion gleam'd ! 

On his fell visage hellish vengeance laugh'd. 

Why struck he not? have fiends their bounds in mis- 
chief? — 

Fled he my prayers, or the sweet breath of day 

Which the damned may not taste? 

Enter Fitz-Eustace, r. h. 

who's there ? Fitz-Eustace ? 
Did you see nothing pass? 

Eus. Nothing, my lord. 

Mar. What brought you hither ? — well — no matter 
— go— 

c 



2fi M ARM ION. [Barker. 

The day has broke — call all my followers up — 
We must set forward. [Exit Fitz-Eustace, r. h. 

Yes : had he been man, 
That man, he had not sheathed a bloodless blade, 
And Marmion down — by heav'n had he been mortal, 
Marmion had never fall'n. Well : be he devil !— 
Let dead and living league ! let deep perdition 
Shoot from the bottom all its prodigies, 
Pll hold my course in nature, undismayed ! 

[Exit Marmion, l. h. 



£ND OF ACT II, 



Act III.'} M ARM ION. 

ACT HI. 
Scene I. 

The vault of Penitence* The walls scooped into heavy arches ■$ 
the'rooflow, and rudely arched ; an iron cresset and light 
suspended by a chain ; on one side a narrow staircase ; in the 
opposite corner a deep niche, a pitcher, fyc. within; on each 
side of the niche stands a Benedictine holding a torch, 
two others with their arms bared; building materials 
prepared. The Abbot, Prioress, and Abbess, injudicial 
robes, seated on a dark stone bench ; before them, on an 
iron table, the statute book of the order, open. Music. 
Constance appears on the stairs, u. e. l. h. attended by tzvo 
monks. Her air is that of settled despair. 

Con. Guides to the grave — is't here your office 
ends? (Music.) [she comes forward? 

Why, ay, 'tis fit: 'tis a congenial scene. — 
Ye dark and kindred horrors, my soul hails you> 
For it is of your hue. — Ye fatal three, 
Dread destinies impart — what form of death — ? (Music*) 

Her eyes falling on the niche, she starts in horror — she re- 
mains motionless, endeavouring to collect herself 

Ah. Constance de Beverly, sister professed 
Of the house of Fontevraud— nun of the order 
Of Sainted Benedict, appear. — Who answers 
To our citation ? 

Con. Constance de Beverly. 

The Prioress motions to a monk, who takes her pagers cap 
from her head; her hair falls in ringlets ; she remains 
motionless. 

Ah. We call upon you to confess your guilty 
And bend unto the sentence of the church, 

[A pause — the Abbot resumes^ 
For violated vows, and convent fled. 



28 MARMION. [ Barker. 

What plead you, io avert the punishment? {Music.) 

[A pause, as before] 
Sister, the doom of crime is written here— 
'Tis for the church's servant to pronounce it. (Music.) 

He rises to give sentence ; the Abbess prevents him, 
as she marks the efforts of Constance to speak. 
Constance at length succeeds, her voice tremu- 
lous at first, but increasing in firmness as she 
proceeds. 

Con. I urge no plea — I sue not for your mercy — 
Hope comes not here ! not e'en your holy pray'rs 
I ask, nor need. If heav'n's ear be closed 
When, from yon living tomb, the cry is sent 
Of ling'ring famine, heav'n will not hear 
Your feeble intercession. — True it is, 
I did desert my duty and my God, 
To follow — -0, if still he owned that name — 
My lover — mine ! — exulting I would cry — 
Rent be the veil, and broken be the vow, 
Forgotten earth and heav'n, Marmion is mine !— 

[Burst of Music — ending mournfully] 
Three years I followed my new deity, 
Serv'd him with truth, lov'd him to adoration — 
Lo ! my reward — abandonment — to you, 
Fiends in the human form. — Yet this were nothing*— 
I could meet death — but 0, the cause ! she lives ! 
You think 'twas Marmion's penitence betrayed me — 
Short-sighted hypocrites! — he ne'er repents. 
No, 'twas my loathed complaints — 'twas a new love. 
And fear for her he lov'd — Clara de Clare — 
She, who, ere this, a saint in bliss had been, 
But that the sordid wretch whom I employed 
Sold Marmion the secret. 

Jib. Horrible !— 

Con. Whence could such horrors spring, but from 
your cloisters ? 
Partaker in life's social charities, 
With objects to divide and share affection. 



All ///.] MARMION. 29 

I had been calmly blest — but from your cells, 
My spirit struggling to be free, burst forth 
In wild excess. — Perhaps he never loved, 
But if he feigned, 'twas your contrasted gloom 
Gave truth's dear semblance to the mask he wore* 
But say he loved — could he espouse a nun? — 
Crime and concealment were inevitable; 
Hence rose in him disgust, in me, despair — 
He sought the love of Clara ; I, her life. 

Jib. Enough ! receive the sentence of the church. 

Con* Hold ! for my thirst for blood is fierce as yours, 
Clara is safe ! but lo ! here is a packet 
Will make the richest flow. — It was my hope 
I should have lived till tidings of his death 
Had broke my heart. — Go, fatal messenger, 
Greet him from dying Constance; tell him that she, 
Rather than Clara's breast should pillow it, 
Places his head upon the fatal block ! (Music.*) 

She stands gazing on the packet ; the Abbess waves to a 
monk, who takes it from her; she remains unconscious ; 
music, at first slow and mournful, rises wild and broken, 
corresponding with her manner* Her eyes settled on va- 
cancy, and at the moment the Abbot rises to pronounce 
sentence, she burst into frenzy. 

Who is it mounts the scaffold ? — Marmion ?— 

Who sent him thither ? — hush ! give me the packet !— 

[seeming to conceal a packet* 

So, so, it never shall betray you, love. 

Strike off his fetters, h& is innocent ! 

Did you not hear the shouts when Wilton fell ? 

If Marmion had been guilty he had fallen. 

Papers? what papers? no, he did never forge them — - 

Why should he? for the love of Clara, say you ? 

Marmion, let go her hand ! ho, executioner ! 

Ha, ha, she's gone. See, see, the axe is up ! 

Save him ! (rushes forward) I have jt, love — 'tis thro 5 
my heart. (Music.) 

[Constance falls , the judges rise from their seats.^ 



SO MARMION. [Barker. 

Jib. Constance de Beverly, God pardon thee. 

Abb. Arnen ! 

Pri. Amen ! 

Jib. Sister, depart in peace. 

Music. Constance starts at the last words ; recovering her 
recollection as the judges are retiring. All the horror of 
her situation rushes upon her mind ; in wild supplication, 
she flies towards the Abbess, whose gestures bespeak her 
sympathy. Constance turns, and shuddering casts her 
look upon the niche ; half raises her eyes to heaven, but 
drops them in despair, — stands motionless, her hands 
convulsively clasped. The monks slowly approach Con- 
stance^ who starts and shudders, but strives to colled 
confidence. A requiem chanted above. 

Con. What solemn strain is that ? 
Monk. The requiem 

For a departing soul. 

A bell tolls above. Constance appears as if she would ask 
its meaning, but her lips move without sound, the monk 
replies to her inquiring look — 
Monk. Your passing bell. 

Overcome with terror, she faints in their arms ; they are 
busy in conveying her towards the niche ; bell tolls : swell 
of the REQUIEM. 

Curtain falls* 

END OF ACT llh 



Act IV.-} MARMION. 31 

ACT IV. 

Scene I. 

Distant view of the Scottish camp. Lines of tents extended 
in a picturesque manner over hill and dale, flags of va- 
rious shape and /we, flying. In the midst, the royal 
pavilion with the rich lion-banner ; groupes of figures, 
as hereafter described by Lindesay ; remains of watch- 
fires, artillery and baggage cars. — The camp lies be- 
tween a streamlet in front, and the spacious frith of 
Forth, which, with its bays, is descried in the distance ; 
on its nearest shore to the left, stands the city and castle, 
their spires and turrets gilt by the sun ; behind the city 
arise lofty hills. The view is closed by mountains, be- 
yond the Forth. Trumpets sound without. Scottish 
march. Enter r. h. u. e. two trumpeters, in blue vests 
and scarlet mantles ; attached to their trumps are small 
banners, with lion bearings. Next four heralds and 
pursuivants in tabards richly composed of red, gold, 
silver, and blue, with lion bearings. Lindesay, lion 
king at arms, on a white horse, with housings of silk, 
embroidered with the thistle, fieur -de -lis, and unicorn. 
Lindesay^ s coat is of the most splendid colours, blazoned 
with a lion, gules ; cap with plume, fyc— followed by 
a gorgeous train, all unarmed ; livery white and gold. 
Lindesay waves with his truncheon to Marchmont, a 
pursuivant, who goes out l. h. u. e. ivhen the music 
ceases, Marchmont re-enters. 

Lin. Now, pursuivant? 

March. 'Tis the ambassador. 

Lin. Sound trumpets to the English Marmion. 

Trumpet sounds, is answered by one without ; English 
march. Enter Marmion l. h. u. e. mounted on a red- 
roan charger, with housings of blue and gold; Mar- 
miotfs shield hangs at the saddle-bow, and bears a black 
falcon in a blue field, with a legend in gold ; the esquires 
at his horse 9 s head, four men at arms, with halbert, bill, 
and axe, one carrying his forked pennon ; yeomen in 



3£ MARMION. 

blue and black, falcon on (he breast, boiv and quiver 
slung, carrying spears. The Pai mer enters last. Mar 
mioi vposite Lindesay, and waves to Fitz-Eus- 

tace, who steps forward. 

Ens. Lord Marmion, envoy from the English court, 
Entreats his name, office, and quality, 
Who gives the fair salute in this encounter. 

March. The representative of James of Scotland- 
Sir David Lindesay, lion king at arms. 

Mar. Howe'er the purpose of my mission speed, 
I yet must thank my travel, which has given me 
To greet Sir David Lindesay of the mount, 
The flower of knightly courtesy. 

Lin. My lord, 

The royal James, who knows your great desert, 
Commissions me to bring you to his palace. 

Mar. His grace is bounteous. — Shall we pass your 
camp ? 

Lin. We shall, my lord. 

Mar. [turning towards the camp] A noble pre- 
paration ! 
In England it would hardly be believed 
Scotland could muster thus. 

Lin. Then come, my lord. 

And as w 7 e pass you'll wonder more to see 
The various warriors loyal Scotland yields. 

Alar. Now, by our warlike saint/ 

I plaud your monarch, for were mine yon host, 
I'd have my tilt, tho' heaven and hell were armed 
To stay me in career. 

The Palmer, who had betrayed some interest in the s 
now resumes his mysterious air : comes forward, l. h. 
makes his obeisance, and goes l. h. 

Lin. What man is this ? 

Mar. Our guide, my lord, through Scotland. 
Lin. Bid him come back. [a herald stays him*] 

(To Marmion] I pray you pardon me. 



Ad.ir.j MARMION. 33 

No one may quit your train, [aside] We've spies 

enough 
In lady Heron, [to Marmion] Shall we move my lord ? 

[Music. 

Lindcsay leaves his truncheon; trumpets, music. The 
trains wheel in upon the centre, and march to the rear ; 
the Palmer follows with a proud step. 

Scene II. 

An antichamber in Holy -rood j)alace. 

Enter Blunt, conducted by a servant l. h. 

Blunt. D'ye mark, a stranger begs one moment's 
audience? 
[Servant bows, with significant look, and exit r. h.] 
That fellow's a true pimp. I'll swear to it. 
Well, this goes bravely — Solyman the Turk, 
Would have to vail his turban to my lord. 
The page — and lady Clare — and lady Heron ! — 
For it must be of love this letter treats — 
His strict injunctions prove it first — and next, 
The choice of his ambassador.-— She comes. 

Enter Lady Heron, r. h. 

Lady H. [entering] A stranger did you say ? 

[aside] 'Tis Marmion's livery. 

Blunt. My lord commends his duty to you, madam; 
And, by your honoured servant, offers this 
To your fair hand, [hands letter, then aside] 0, the 
delicious hand ! 

Lady H. Who is your lord, Sir? 

Blunt. The lord Marmion, madam. 

Lady H. Comes he not here himself? 

Blunt. Madam, he does. 

By this he's near the palace. 

Lady H. Gentle youth. 

Your service claims reward: I know the guerdon 



M MARMION. [Barker. 

Young pages wish from ladies: take it, Sir, 

And hasten back. [offering her hand. 

Blunt, [kissing if] Lady, Pm your vowed slave. 
0, the delicious hand! [aside, exit l. ir. 

Lady H. A handsome stripling! 

Now to the letter — yet why should he write ! 
[reads'] " What can be a severer fate than his, most 
dear lady, who is constrained to decline an honour 
which kings have been proud to solicit! But, if I de- 
sire you not to recognize me on my presentation to 
James, your wisdom will not fail to divine my motive ; 
and thus, some of the private moments we shall seize 
for converse, which else must have been wasted in dis- 
cussing reasons for state policy, I can more usefully 
employ in renewing those vows to your beauty, which 
your condescension once deigned to receive. At pre- 
sent, this must suffice. King Henry values your past 
services ; — doubts not your continued loyalty, and has 
sworn your reward shall be equal to both ; — and Mar- 
mion, who remains entirely yours, still confides in your 
bounty, and trusts that his constancy will not be with- 
out its recompense." [lady Heron laughs. 
0, rare diplomatist! — your constancy ! — 
My wise lord envoy, when you penned that word, 
You sure forgot to whom you wrote. — Well, well — 
You may be useful to me, politic Sir, 
Therefore shall have my smiles — smiles, current coin, 
To pay vain man with. — Marmion's good report 
May speed this same reward king Henry speaks of, 
And which I soon may need. My visit here 
Must close. — 'Tis true, my suit I urge no longer, 
(That fair pretence that gave me entrance here/ 
And the enamourM king seems to forget it 
Still to prolong my stay — Some nobles too, 
My smiles have won — but there are still too many 
Whose power I know, whose rooted hate I fear- 
No matter — I must make one effort more — 
James is a hero — but he's still a lover: — 
He goes to battle — but he takes me with lv 



Act. IV.*] MARMION. 35 

And, if voluptuousness retain its power, 
My Scottish Anthony may find an Actium. 

* Enter Douglas, looking back. l. h. 

"Doug. 'Twas one of Marmion's train — how, lady 
Heron ! [aside] 
" Pardon me, madam, if I interrupt you — 

"Lady H. How, interupt me! {confused; con- 
cealing the letter.'] 

"Doug. You were reading, madam. 

" Lady H. He saw the letter then ! [aside.] 

u Doug. I met a page, — 

u A stranger to the court, — quitting the palace — 
u Perhaps the bearer of your letter? 

ec Lady H. Ha ! [aside* 

•Well, Sir? 

"Doug. I hope your husband's well. 

" Lady H. My husband ? 

u Doug. Your husband, lady, who — so you informed 
us — 
" Sent you to beg his liberty of James — 
•• Your husband — pining in a Scottish prison, 
" I thought might write unto his loving wife, 
u To bid her not forget her errand here, 
*» For, in good truth, 'tis somewhat long ago, 
H Since I have heard it mentioned. 

" Lady H. Sir, this raillery 

'•But ill becomes your age — and it offends me. — 
" I have but one word more — if e'er repeated 
" The king shall know it. [exit r. h. 

M Doug. Go, unworthy woman. 

u The king shall know it ! 
" She's of the sex I reverence, and I blush 
" To give e'en her the title that befits her. 
" Were I now to tell 

"All I have marked to James: — the English page 
" Just leaving her — the letter — her confusion — 

* This part of the scene is sometimes omitted in representation 



36 MARMION. [Barker. 

" All this, which, added to what goes before, 

" Were proof of guilt to weigh an angel down, 

" One sigh of hers would blow to empty air — 

"Nay, and most like send me to banishment. 

" So potent is the devil lechery. — 

"Fll do it ne'ertheless — by heav'n, I will — 

"Pll tell him, tho' he hang me for it." [exit l. h. 

Enter Usher, conducting Abbess and Clara, r. h. 

Abb. You do mistake us, friend — we are not 
masquers. 

Ush. Not masquers ! 

Abb. No : but hapless English nuns, 

In evil hour made prisoners at sea ; 
And hearing that the king goes hence to-morrow, 
We come to ask his leave to seek our convent. 

Ush. His war is not with women — enter boldly. 

Abb. heaven forbid that we should enter there ; 
It were a scandal to our sacred calling. 

Ush. The times impose this violence. — Follow me — 
I'll bring you to the king. 
[Exeunt Abbess and Clara, following the Usher l. h* 

Scene III. 

The court, splendidly adorned and illuminated ; 
lords and ladies, groupes of masques, monks, 
nuns, pilgrims, buffoon, Abbess, Clara, Usher, 
fyc. discovered. Lively music, then a flourish. 

Enter King James, attended by Douglas, Lady 
Heron, lords and ladies, 2nd e. r. h. 

The king is dressed in a crimson robe ermined, vest 
of changeful sfttin, brilliant collar and badge of 
Scotland, crimson bonnet with plume; tvhite 
buskins. As James appears, the Abbess and Clara 
are making their retiring courtesies. 

James, My care shall straight provide fit guard and 
conduct : 
Till then my palace be your sanctuary. (Music.) 



Act IF.] MARMION. 37 

[ The king goes tip and sits on the throne.'] 
The Abbess and Clara express profound gratitude, 
and Exeunt 2d e. r. h. — a second flourish. Enter 
Lindesay, conducting Marmion (who is in a court 
dress,*) attended by Fitz-Eustace and Blunt. 
A Minuet is performed before the king, after 
which a second flourish, 8?c. James advances, 
bonnet in hand, and salutes Marmion cordially. 

James. My noble lord, my court receives new lustre, 
Thus lighted by the star of chivalry. 

Mar. Your highness' courtesy kins with your na- 
ture, 
Your birth and state — most royal still in all. 

Music. James presents Marmion to Lady Heron; 
they go tip the stage. 

Enter the Palmer l. h. in dress of a monk ; with a 
lofty deportment, he crosses and mingles with the 
masques. James, Marmion, lady Heron, fyc. come 
down the stage. 

James. Nay then, I must enlist your countryman. 
My lord, pray woo this fair hand to the harp. 

Marmion offers his hand, which she instantly ac- 
cepts ; the king is somewhat surprised. 

Lady H. With aid like this, your majesty must 
conquer. 

Marmion acknowledges the compliment, and is 
leading her to the harp, which is brought down 
by two attendants, who place the seat near it and 
retire ; she stops capriciously. 

Lady H. And yet, by harmony itself I vow, 
I cannot sing — I must not, dare not sing. 

Mar. Dare not, in pity ? 'tis a well meant mercy. 
But, lady, it is fruitless while you speak ; 
For on those lips Apollo hangs a lyre, 

D 



38 MARMION. [Barker. 

Waked by each breath to killing melody. 
Lady H. How, if I shut my lips ? 
Mar. Your eyes are open, 

And Phoebus' shafts are piercing as his sounds. 

Lady H. 0, you're a flatterer, [taking her seat at 

the harp.] 
Doug, [aside] And you're a — [shrugs and turns 
up-] 

Song. Lady Heron. Words by Walter Scott. 

O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 
Through all the wide border his steed was the best; 
And save his good broad-sword he weapons had none, 
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 

He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone; 

He swam the Eske river where ford there was none: 

But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, 

The bride had consented, the gallant came late: 

For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, 

Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he entered the Netherb} r hall, 

Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, 

(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) 

€t O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 

Or to dance at our bridal, young lord Lochinvar?" 

"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; — 
Love swells like the Sol way, but ebbs like its tide — 
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, 
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." 

The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, 
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. 
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, 
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. 
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar — 
"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar. 

So stately his form, and so lovely her face, 
That never a hall such a galliard did grace-; 



Act IV.'] M ARM ION. 39 

While her mother did fret and her father did fume; 
And the bride-groom stood dangling" his bonnet and plume, 
And the bride-maidens whispered "twere better by far 
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 

When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near,* 

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 

So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 

" She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; 

They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. 

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; 

Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran! 

There was racing, and chacing, on Cannobie Lee, 

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. 

So daring in love, and dauntless in war, 

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? 

During the song, James hangs enamoured over her chair ; 
Douglas contemplates the group with disdain* The 
Palmer is rather in the hack ground, watching Marmion. 
Towards the close of the song James discovers some jea- 
lousy at the glances which lady Heron occasionally throws 
on Marmion, Lady Heron rues when the song is finished^ 
and is handed up the stage by Marmion. The attendants 
take away the Harp and seat. 

James. Lord Marmion, our affairs require despatch; 

Ev'n here we'll end them: what says Henry to us? 

Mar. This will explain my sovereign's just demand. 

[handing a scroll to the king. 

James. How's this ? Dismiss my power I send host- 



ages 



My lord ambassador, does Henry think 
Our spirit is entombed with Bruce and Wallace ! 
Let England know, the charter of our freedom 
In glorious fields our noble fathers won: 
And palsied be the base degenerate hand 
That, at an alien bid, would tear the record ! 
And withered to the core the craven heart, 
v That shrinks from danger, death — in freedom's cause ! 
Mar. Your gracious majesty is pleased to start 
A little from the matter ; our desires 



40 MARMION. [Barker. 

Went not so far. 

James. My lord, the first base step 

Is ne'er the last ! the foot that fear but moves, 
/Fear still impels. Do you not ask us here 

To throw our armour off, and cower at home, 
^Patient, till England find a time to treat ? 

Mar. Till Henry come from France. 

James. Why went he thither 

But to wage unjust war? 

Mar. Your highness' pardon, 

He went to quell the general enemy, 
Of you, and all. 

James. The general enemy ! 

Spare me, my lord, the stale, distasteful tale, 
I know it all. The nation the most selfish, 
Presuming, arrogant, of all this globe, 
Professes but to fight for others' rights, 
While she alone infringes every right. 

Mar. I knew before, your majesty was partial 
To those you most mistakenly conceive 
To be your friends and allies. 

James. Soul of Bruce ! 

Were they not then our allies, when your king 
Sought to enslave us? who of all the world 
Came at our need, but they ? by heaven, lord Marmion, 
England insults us with the trite complaint 
That we are partial; for she shows by this, 
She thinks our senses are too dull and blunt 
To know who wounds us and who gives the balm. 
But let that rest; my country's bloody page 
I will not quote. Its former friend and foe 
Be now forgot; we urge our present griefs. 

Mar. All that you can, with justice, ask of England, 
Henry will grant. But he requires your pause 
Till he return from waging foreign war. 

James. Yes : till, like Edward, the flushed conqueror 
come, 
To bid our blazing cities warm our hufts 
To fresher anguish. "Twas for this, my lord. 



Act. IV.-] MARMION. 41 

When on the border our commissions met, 
Each day blushed on some new and poor evasion 
Of your commissioners — who strove at last 
To cloak their shame in rude display of passion, 
As cowards hide their fears with blustering. 

Mar. The subject may have been most intricate, 
Your claims involved in doubt. 

James. Not so — not so- 

Simple as truth they were, clear as the sun. 
But what did England during this our parley? 
While thus negociating, what did England? 
When, trusting in your faith, resentment slept, 
And patience stayed your tardy reparation 
Of wrongs so long inflicted ? It was then — 
Even in days of truce ! I burn to speak it — 
Murder and pillage, England's constant agents, 
Roamed through our land, and harboured in our bays ! 
Our peaceful border sacked, our vessels plundered, 
Our abused liegemen robbed, enslaved and slaughtered. 
My lord, my lord, under such injuries, 
How shall a free and gallant nation act? 
Still lay its sovereignty at England's feet — 
Still basely ask a boon from England's bounty — 
Still vainly hope redress from England's justice ? 
No ! by our martyred fathers' memories, 
The land may sink — but, like a glorious wreck, 
'Twill keep its colours flying to the last. 

Mar. Is this the answer I must bear to England? 

James. We, Sir, are the appellant— -and our heralds 
Have ta'en to Henry, in his Flemish camp, 
Our last demand. Till his return, my lord, 
(Tho' faint the hope that he will bring us peace) 
Be Scotland's honoured guest. Nearer the Tweed, 
If you're content, we will appoint your residence. 
Shall it be so ? 

Mar* Your majesty commands me. 

James. And now I do bethink me go : bring 

hither 

d2 



42 MARMION. [Barker. 

Our two fair prisoners, [to Usher, who goes out 2d e. 
l. H.] 

English nuns, my lord, 
Who, as they say, upon their voyage home 
To Whitby abbey, from a holy visit, 
Were captured by our galley. If it please you, 
I will commend them to your noble care. 

Mar. I'm honoured in the trust, [aside'] To Whit- 
by abbey ! 
Should lady Clare be one ! 

James. Behold they're here ! 

Enter Abbess and Clara, with Usher 2d e. l. h. 

I promis'd you an honourable escort, 
Your countryman, lord Marmion. 

Cla. Marmion ! 

Abb. Marmion ! 

As they repeat his name, Marmion starts, and fixing upon 
them a scrutinizing look, recognizes them. 

J2bb. 0! royal Sir— 

James, [turning away] Be happy, I am thanked. 

Abb. Beseech your majesty — 

[the king joins Lady Heron,] 

Ush. The king is busy, 

And must not be disturbed. 

Cla. For ever lost ! 

Mar. Down, triumph, down, and wait thy sorted 
moment. 
[Marmion gently approaches them, they shrink 

from him.] 
Fair ladies, fear ye your protector! 

Mb. Thou ! 

Thou our protector ! 

Mar. Ay, and here I swear, 

To keep the character inviolate. 

Cla. God ! with thee ! 

Mar. With me, lady, with me, 

>Tis past redeem. [Clara retires in despair.] 



ActlV^ MARMION. 43 

My presence is oppressive, 
Study to bear it, and doubt not my honour. 

Marmion retires up the stage haughtily. The Pal- 
zsier, who had observed the scene, from a distance, 
advances. 

Abb. Now what can save us ? 

Pal. [to the Abbess solemnly] Sister, fear you not. 
Behold in me your guardian. 

Abb. Who art thou ? 

Pal. A Palmer, from the Holy-land. Events 
Have placed me in the train of this bad man. 
Wonder not that I thus am here disguised ; 
My motives are most strong. 

Abb. If it be so, 

This is a blessed meeting. — I have papers, 
Giv'n by a dying nun — they furnish proofs 
Of Marmion's forgery, and clear from shame 
The memory of noble Ralph de Wilton, 
Accused by him of treason. — Were I sure 
Your character were holy, Pd adjure thee 
To take the precious charge — since, while with me— 
A feeble woman, and in Marmion's power, 
They are not safe. 

Pal. just, unerring heaven ! 

Let us retire — within Pll prove my truth, 
And claim thy confidence. — Come, come, my sister ! 
[Exeunt Palmer, Abbess, and Clara, l. h. 

The king advances zoith Marmion towards Doug- 
las, who is standing on r. h. 

James. My lord, your host shall be the Douglas 
here. 
Go, Angus, to your castle — we can spare you — 
Who in the field, as at the council-board, 
Might still oppose your prince ! 

Doug. Oppose my prince ! 



44 MARMION. [Barker. 

Douglas, overco?ne by emotion, turns aside and 

weeps ; James with sudden remorse seizes his hand. 

James. Douglas, forgive my unhappy mind's dis- 
temper; 
As spoke the Bruce of your great ancestor, 
Speak I of you ! Nev^r had king a subject 
In war more valiant, or in peace more wise; 
More loving or more true, — My worthy Angus, 
'Twas your war-wearied limbs' repose I thought of, 
E'en when my spleen discolour'd my intent. 
Will you not press your monarch's hand ? 

Doug. My king 

James. Bless my old soldier! — Now, beshrew my 
tongue, 
That gave that heart a pang ! 

Doug. No more, my liege, 

If you would have it hold ; this kindness breaks it. 

Mar. 0, let those tears fall on the flame of war : 
The drops of triflers may be shed for trifles, 
But patriot eyes reflect their country's fate, 
And nations tremble when their warriors weep. 

James, [indignant at the advantage attempted to 
be taken of his feelings.'] 
And if I wade through tears, southward I march 
At break of day: — and should my good lord Mar- 

mion 
With Douglas long abide, we next may greet him 
In his own castle hall at Tamworth town. 

Mar. Too high the honour for my humble roof : 
Too rough the road your majesty must take : 
Our rivers, too, are rapid, broad, and deep, 
Our northern men most rude and obstinate, 
And churlish still in welcoming their foes. 
I fear our fare would prove too harsh and homely, 
And for repose (rest endless, or rest none) 
The churls might offer to your royal limbs 
The rocky couch, or river's slimy bed. 
By heav'n ! no idle vaunt is this I utter! 



Set. IV.-] MARMION. 45 

Full many a noble heart must cease to beat 

Ere Scotland's king can cross the Trent. — Brave 

prince, 
Pause, while you may. 

James [turning lightly away"] Lords, to the dance; 
a hall!— 
And minstrels strike, "Blue bonnets o'er the Border." 

*# Ballet. 



END OF ACT IV > 



46 MARMION. [Barker. 

ACT V. 

Scene I. 

Jin apartment in Douglas Castle. Enter Douglas, 
r. h. armour partially seen beneath his gown, 
followed by the Palmer ; his face uncowled. 

Doug. Well, well, your thanks have more than paid 
me ; come, 
The day is nigh — my steed is ready for you — 
Fll see you to his back, and heaven speed you. 

[Bugle winds l. h. 
Warder, who comes? 

War. [without, l. h.] A post to my lord Marmion. 
Let down the bridge, there. 

Doug. Marmion will be roused — 

? Tis his own messenger, whom his impatience 
Hourly expected, — But a little longer 
You must be clouded. — Still avoid lord Marmion. 

Palmer c?*osses to l. h. Enter Marmion, l. h. ; he 
starts at meeting the Palmer, who has thrown 
his cowl over his head, and exits l. h. 

Mar. 'Tis strange ! 

Doug. What gives you wonder? 

Mar. That earl Douglas 

Should rise at night to parley with that man. 

Doug. Perhaps age makes me restless ; or perhaps 
Some untold crime presses upon my souL 
It may be that I need an augurer 
To tell me w T hat I am ; well Marmion knows 
How prone is guilt to fear and superstition. 

Mar. How, earl ! [disturbed] 

Doug, [with contemptuous pity] My lord, your 
courier has arrived. [Exit Douglas, r. h. 

Mar. Damnation, scorn ! [ifo/erFiTz-EusTACEL. h. 

What says the courier ? 



Act. F.] MARMION. 47 

Eus. King James, still gathering as he marched 
along, 
Has, with a mighty power, invaded England. 
Old Norham fort has yielded. 

Mar. Norham yielded! 

The key to all Northumberland ! 

Eus. He adds 

That Wark has fallen since — Etall and Ford, 
With other holds of strength. 

Mar. But where's our power ? 

Where lingers Surrey? 

Eus. He had just come up 

To stop the Scottish progress, when your courier 
Set out. 

Mar. That's well: and how near lie the armies? 

Eus. So near, they fight with threatening looks 
already : 
Scotland is posted on the ridge of Flodden, 
Our camp is on the edge of Barmore Forest. 

Mar. Then there will be a field ? 

Eus. Yes ; if earl Surrey 

Can draw the Scot down from his vantage ground. 

Mar. By heaven I'll join the earl ! seek Harry 
Blunt — 
Prepare the train to march. 

Eus. To camp, my lord ? 

Mar. Ay, boy, to camp — to battle. — Go; alert! 

[Exit FlTZ-EuSTACE L. H. 

King James' herald has not yet returned, 

Meantime the war goes on. By heaven, no longer 

Will I in this cold, churlish castle loiter, 

While there is healthful exercise abroad. 

Douglas has grown discourteous — nay, suspicion 

Scowls on his brow — yet, what can he suspect? 

No, 'tis the instinct of his honest nature, 

That bids him shun the man of blood and treachery. 

0, thou proud beauty, 

For whom my hand forgot its knightly truth, 

My heart its sense of pity and remorse! 



48 MARMION. [Barker. 

Shall I not enjoy thee ! . 

Yes ; like the wretch, who, for a present good, 

Has given to the fiend his future being; 

Desperate like him, Pll snatch my hour of triumph, 

Like him assured that certain hell awaits me. 

[Exit L. H. 

Scene II. 

*fln armoury, lighted by a branch; armour dispersed 
around. 

Enter Clara in a rich lay habit. 

Cla. What tumult breaks the stillness of the castle! 
I thought that only grief restless as mine, 
Watched at this hour. " It is my sorrow's solace 
"To linger on the jutting battlement, 
" And borrow from the night her dusky weeds 
"To shroud these splendid trappings of my tyrant. 
" There, as the sighing breezes drop their dew, 
" And ocean heaves, and murmurs far below," 
I fancy that all nature mourns with me 
For slaughtered Wilton. Ah ! what place is this? 
Armour ! alas ! here is a breast-plate pierced ; 
Fatal remembrancer! e'en here was struck 
His manly bosom — not his tempered corslet, 
Nor stronger truth, could turn the traitor's lance. 
! Wilton, Wilton ! 

Wilton appears, u. e. r. h. wrapt loosely in his mantle ; his 
face still shrouded; he starts on seeing Clara. 

Wil. Powers of bliss, 'tis she ! 

My bride, my Clara! 

Cla. — [Turns, and. beholding him, shrieks in horror."] 
Save me ! what form is this? 

Wil. Clara 

Cla. Who art thou ? 

Wil. God, she knows me not ! there was a time 



dct. F.] MARMION. 49 

When Clara's eye could pierce through all disguise 
That hid her poor De Wilton. 

He stops near the light; throws back his cloak, and appears 
in complete armour. 

Cla. {sinking] Help, ye heavens ! 

[ Wilton rushes to her ; she sinks upon his knee.~] 
WiL My life, my Clare, revive and bless your 

Wilton. 
Cla. Again that name ! where am I ? 
Wil. Here, my love, 

Close to your Wilton's heart. 

Cla. [drawing back in doubt] Hold ! Wilton ? 
Wilton ! 

Convinced of his identity, she throzvs herself into his arms, 

WiL My matchless Clare. 

Cla. But, did I not, my Wilton, 

Upon that dreadful day, — ah ! sure I saw thee — 
Ere blest forgetful n ess crept o'er my senses, 
I saw thee borne all lifeless from the lists. 

WiL Alas ! my body's wound was slight — my 
fame — 
My fame alone that perished. — Foiled by Marmion— 
E'en in thy sight, his forgery sealed by heaven ! 
Before my king and thee confirmed a traitor! 
Madness possessed my brain, and long, they say, 
I raved of honour and of Clara lost — 
Or, for a moment, if my mind returned, 
It brought the surer sense of misery. 
I prayed to die ! 

Cla. And was I absent then ? 

Alas ! what hours of anguish hast thou known 
Which fond affection might have turned to peace ! 
But Clara's hand did never smooth thy pillow; 
The only balm that heals the breaking heart, 
She was forbid to minister. — Alas ! 



50 M ARM ION. ^Barker. 

The office of her love was done by strangers, 

For to the sick soul all is strange but love* 

Yet sure, some favoured one there was — ah ! tell me, 

Who had the transport of preserving Wilton ? 

WiL Thou recollectst my faithful servant, Austin — 
He bore me through the shouting multitude, 
He won me back to life ; with him alone, 
Known by no name, without a home on earth, 
In wo and want, I sought an exile's grave. 

" Cla. An exile's grave ! was Clara then forgot? 

a WiL Who can forget existence, while each sense 
" Smarts with keen agony ? — But 0, my love, 
" What had I more to do with life? For me, 
" A death-doomed traitor, a self-banished man, 
"What could the noble heiress of de Clare? 

" Cla. Banish herself with her dear husband, — 
" wander 
" Where never foot had trod; and, if she failed 
"To make him bear his life, die happy with him. 

" WiL 0, 'twas the image of this worshipped form 
" Still beckoned me, through danger, and through 
"death, 

"To hostile England " Happy destiny 

Made me the guide of him, whose rival steps 
It would have been my chiefest care to trace. 

Cla. Alas ! had he discovered thee — 0, still 
I fear him much ! 

WiL Fear not; his days are numbered ; 
I've had him in my power — my sword was raised, 
And it had robb'd the headsman of his stroke, 
But memory of a boon that dying Austin 
Wrung from me, stopt the blow. — E'en from the grave 
Good Austin serv'd his master. — Had I slain him, 
The proofs of his device to taint my name 
Had never reach'd my hand. This fateful packet 
Will make the dark recital. It was yielded, 
As to the keeping of a holy man, 
By your own abbess, for I now perceive 
It was my Clare so closely drew her veil. 



Act V.-} MARMION. 51 

That I, for whose unworthy sake 'twas worn, 
Never discovered my fair flatterer. 

Cla. But, dear my lord, what means this warlike 
dress ? 

WiL Douglas, whose credence my frank story 
gained, 
Has, with all solemn rites of chivalry, 
Giv'n me fresh knighthood. — To earl Surrey's camp 
I go, to win new honours, and new arms, 
Ere I demand what Marmion has defae'd. 
E'n now I should be gone. 

Cla. Alack, more peril ! 

! is there not some cot of love and peace — 

WiL Forbear. 

Cla. Ah yes! I know thy noble heart; 

Beneath the weight of shame — it could not beat 
With love or peace. — Then take my pray'rs and go- 
Clare sends her knight, her hero, forth to fame. 

Wil. 'Tis now I hear the daughter of earl Gilbert- 
Brief must our parting be. 

Cla. Hark ! — should he come ! — 

Wil. The traitor's pow'r to terrify is past. 

Cla. He comes — conceal your face — farewell, fare- 
well. [Music. 

[De Wilton throws his cozvl over his head.] 

Enter Marmion, r. h. who stains on meeting him. 

Mar. This fiend again to cross me! hence, fell 
boder ! 

WiL In vain the dying wretch bids hence the raven 

That croaks his coming fate. Tremble, lord Marmion. 

[Music. Exit Wilton, r. h. 

Mar. My spirit withers in that being's presence; 
I'm less than man before him. — Madam, stay ; 
Remember that my rank claims some respect, 
E'en from the haughty heiress of De Clare. 

Cla. So turns the captive at the jailer's bid. 
Lo, I obey. — What is your order, sir? 



52 MARMION. [Barker. 

Mar. Contemptuous girl ! — Madam, 'tis necessary 
You instantly prepare you for a journey. 

Cla. Whither? 

Mar. To the English camp. 

Cla. And is it well 

To force me from the honourable care 
Of lady Angus, to a camp, my lord ? 

Mar. Madam, your relative, the earl Fitz-Clare, 
Is in the camp. — Shall I entreat your haste ? — 

Cla. I shall be near De Wilton — {aside] 

Mar. Said you, lady ? — 

Cla. Sir, I obey. 

Mar. You much oblige your servant. 

{Exit Clara, l. h. 
Those looks of scorn shall change ere long, fair lady. 

Enter Blunt and Fitz-Eustace, in disorder, r. h. 

Well! what's the marvel? — wherefore are ye mute? 

Eus. My lord, I scarce can credit, yet, my eyes — 
Yet Blunt was by me. — 

Blunt. Ay, and knew the horse : 

It was good Cheviot, the earPs best steed, 
A little old, but yet 

Mar. Peace, stable-boy ; 

Eustace, your tale. 

Eus. My lord, we both beheld it. 

Just as the light appeared, the bridge was lower'd, 
And Douglas, in a shirt of mail, the which 
His gown but ill conceal'd, led forth a knight 
Arm'd cap-a-pie; his visor being up, 
We saw his face: my lord, it was the Palmer. 

[Marmion starts'] 
The earl embraced him, when, backing his steed, 
He shot across the ditch and disappeared. 

Mar. [after a pause.] Did he by figure or by face 
remind you 
Of one you'd seen before ? 

Blunt. My lord, most strongly 



Act. F.] M ARM ION. 5S 

I never saw but one, besides your lordship, 
Ride with such grace. 

[Marmion turns from Blunt, impatiently'] 

Bus. Gazing upon his face., 

Now clear from those dark locks, methought I saw 
The very knight you fought in Cotswold field. 

Mar. Liars, no more; begone ! [turns up stage.] 
[Exeunt Fitz-Eustace and Blunt, l. h. 
And was't de Wilton 
That vanquished Marmion ? No, my dastard folly, 
My superstition, 'twas; 

Now Douglas knows his tale; Surrey will learn it. 
What then ? they cannot credit the vain charge ? 
How, if I fly to Constance ? 
She has the only proofs. But, does she live? 
And if she does, — still Wilton is alive ; — 
Wilton and Marmion, — can they breathe together? — - 
Impossible ! ! labyrinth of guilt, 
How shall I quit thee ? Ha ! a way appears : 

Wilton will join us in the fight : — one blow 

Perdition to the base suggestion ! — No, 
First perish all. — Boldly Pll seek my rival 

After the fight. — What means this chillness? After? - 

Well ! if I not survive, there is an end. 

I sicken here. — To horse! I'll rush to war; 

I burn for thickest battle — tumult — havock! 

Welcome the clash of arms, the skriek of anguish, 

The shout of triumph, and the dying groan, 

Drown, if you can, this clamour of my soul ! 

[Exit Marmion, l. h. Bugle sounds without* 

Scene III. 

The court-yard. Music. The wall low, behind 
which are seen the shafts of the drawbridge, and 
a hill beyond the moat. Ji gateway with port- 
cullis suspended. Marmion 9 s train enters from 
l. h., pass through the gateway, up the draw- 
bridge, and go off r. h. Clara on her palfrey, at- 
E 2 



54 MARMION. [Barker. 

fended by Blunt and Fitz-Eustace, then enter 
l. h. and pass through and go offn. h. Marmion 
enters l. h. followed by Douglas and six Attend- 
ants, armed with spears. These range themselves 
np the stage on l. h. Marmion 9 s charger is seen 
on the bridge. 

Mar. Earl Douglas, though the guest your king had 
sent 
Might justly have expected warmer welcome, 
Yet shall your name of Douglas and your years 
Smooth my resentment, — Ere I leave your castle, 
My lord, I tender you the hand of friendship. 

Offers his hand. Douglas proudly throws his man- 
tle over his folded arms. 

Doug. My gate shall open at my sov'reign's bid, 
Though he who enter be not Douglas' peer ; 
My castle is my king's; but Douglas' hand 
Is all his own, and never shall it clasp 
The hand of such as Marmion. 

Mar. This to me !— 

Did not thy white locks helm it, Marmion's hand 
Should cleave the Douglas' head. — High as thou art, 
The meanest groom employ'd by England's king 
Climbs to thy level. Here within thy hold, 
Surrounded by thy vassals, I defy thee ! 
And if thou sayst I am not peer to Douglas, 
Or any lord of Scotland, far or near, 
As deep as to the throat, Angus, thou liest. 

Doug. And darest thou beard the lion in his den, 
The Douglas in his hall ? — Up, drawbridge, there ! 
What, Warder, ho ! let the portcullis fall. [Music. 

Marmion passes hastily through the gateway. The 
portcullis descends close behind, with a loud noise. 
Bugle without, and shouts from Marmion *s train. 
Marmion is seen to join them on the eminence be- 
yond the moat. 



Act K] MARMION. 55 

Mar. Come forth, old lion. — What ! Hast thou no 
fangs 
But in thy sarazine? Are all thy teeth 
In the gate's mouth? Come forth, thou coward Scot! 
I hurl my gauntlet at thy churlish walls, 
And dare thee from thy den. — Douglas, come forth ! 
[Bugle and shouts renewed. Douglas is led in l. h.] 

Scene IV.* 

Surrey's pavilion in the English camp. Flourish, 
Enter earl Surrey, " lord Thomas Howard," 
lords and Soldiers r. h. 

"Sur. Has yet our pursuivant returned from James? 

" Thorn. Not yet, my lord, and much I fear the king 
i( Will not accept your challenge. 

" Sur. Know him better, 

" E'en if he brook our taunts, my lady Heron 
•'•'Will send her champion down. Her royal lover 
"Would face destruction ere he'd meet her scorn. 
" Last night she told me this, and laughed most loudly 
"At his infatuation. 

" Thorn. Was she here? 

" Sur. I owe her frequent visits; and, in fine, 
" If victory be ours, 'tis she has won it. 
•< What trumpet's that ? 

" Thorn. My lord, your pursuivant." 

Pursuivant enters l. h. in heraldric mantle, with 
red cross. 

Sur. What from king James? 

Pur. He does accept your challenge, 

Sur. Bold spirit! "But relate the manner, Sir. 

" Pur. Scarce had I thrown the gage, ere kingly 
pride 
« O'ercame the leader's prudence, but his answer 
" Was froze in its current by the chilling looks 

■ This scene frequently commences with Earl Surrey, &c. meeting- 
Pursuivant, all the passages in inverted comma's being omitted. 



56 M ARM ION. [Barker. 

" Of those around him. It was then, my lord, 
"I gave your bitter taunts in full extension, 
" With all the bold additions of your son, 
" My lord high admiral. 

" Thorn. And what to this? 

"Pur. His visage glow'd with anger. " Go," said 
he, 
"Bear Surrey my defiance. — For his son, 
" The pirate admiral, the great sea-robber, 
" Who boasts through you his murders and his pil- 



lage- 
" These were his words, my lord. 

" Thorn. Go on, go on. 

" Pur. " Bid him beware my grapple. — I'll pursue 
him, 
"Till quitting earth, on his own element 
"I send his wreck'd soul to the realms below." 

" Sur. How took his lords these words ? 

" Pur. In silence first. 

" At length low murmurs swell'd to noisy clamour, 
" And bold remonstrance spoke on ev'ry tongue. 
" Some urged the rashness of the act, to quit 
" The vantage of the ground ; others, more frank, 
"Would back to Scotland, with their certain booty. 
"The land, they siid, could not be kept, if won, 
"And that w r ere still a hazard. 

" Sur. Did this move him ? 

"Pur. Deeply; but lady Heron was beside him; 
"In under tone she said, with air derisive: 
"0, Sir, comply; 'twill well become your name 
" To turn the incursion of a royal army 
" To a paltry border foray for a spoil ! 
" 'Tis true, the country can be kept, if won, 
" But then, alas! it must be fought for first, 
"And battles sometimes are most dangerous." 

"Sur. That woman's worth a million. 

" Pur. When she ceas'd, 

" The king cried out, " To arms!" leapt from his horse, 
u And swore, on footing of his meanest soldier, 
" He'd try the brunt. His lords all follow'd him, 



Act Kj M ARM ION. 57 

u Save three or four, who turn'd their horses 5 heads, 
" And with their vassals, left him to his fate. — 
•*' By this, my lord, he has disposed his force. 

" Sur. Why then we must be quick. — My second 
hope, 
u Edmund, lord marshal of the field, you're welcome* 
•'•' What says your survey?* 

" Enter Edmund Howard" 

Ed. From the brow of Branxton 5 

I have discover'd where, beyond the bridge, 
The Till is fordable ; there, if we cross, 
A rapid movement throws our force between 
Our foe and th ? river Tweed ; thus cutting off 
Retreat, or succour : so the Scot must fight, 
Or starve on Flodden ridge. 

Sur. And so he must- 

Go ; bid the vanguard move. 

" Exeunt Thomas and Edmund Howard, attended™ 
2nd e. r. h. 

Enter suddenly De Wilton, armed, his visor down, 

R. H. 

Sur. Who'rt thou ? 

WiL A knight 

Who comes to ask this boon of noble Surrey : 
Fair leave, in honour's rank, to strike for England. 

Sur. Declare your name. 

WiL Your highness pardon me, 

Not till I blazon it with brightest glory 
Torn from the Scottish crest : this will I do, 
Or fill a nameless grave. 

Sur. Thou art a knight; 

There's something in that port and voice of thine 
I recognise as noble : have thy wish, {crosses to l. h, 

{De Wilton retires up. 

* When the part in inverted commas is omitted, Edmund Howard 
mters with Earl Surrey 9 and the speech is spoken by the Pursuivant, 



33 MARMION. [J?n 

What train is that which halts on yonder hill? — 
The leader comes this way. — 

Enter Marmion, attended by Officers and Soldiers, 

L. H. 

How! the lord Marmion? 

By my good hope, 'tis he : at such an hour. 

Welcome such friends. — Enough : our van has mov'd. 

Myself command the centre: on the left 

Stanley and Chester fight ; my sons, with Tunstall. 

Lead on the vaward right ; while the lord Dacres 

Witt 3 in the rear, reserve his needful horse. 

Afar. Has the front mov'd ? 

Sur. It has. Now do I see 

Your gallant wish. Go ; your own vassals there, 
Brought by De Burg, your steward, will rejoice 
To hail their lord. 

Mar. But, this — thanks, thanks — Come, follow. 

[Music. 
Marmion rushes out, followed by Soldiers, Surrey 
and his power, r. h. Drum. Trumpet. 

Scene V. 

Sybil's cross, r. h. r. e. A streamlet winding near. 
View of Flodden On its highest ridge the Scot- 
tish camp. *i valley, with some lesser hills be- 
tween. Clara discovered, leaning against the 
cross. Eustace waiting near. Blunt impatiently 
watching the field, r. h. 

Blunt. I see him still : he flies — he joins the fore- 
most : 
It is De Burg gallops to meet him : now 
His vassals wave their casques, and shout his welcome. 
[distant shouts r. h. r. E. — " Marmion ! Marmion!" 
'Sdeath, 'tis a hopeful office, this of ours. 
No chance of gilded spurs to-day, Fitz-Eustace* 



Act V:\ MARMION. . 59 

[Drum — Trumpet — Jllarm.] 

The charge is struck. 

Bus. [to Clara] I pray you, lady, fear not. 

Blunt. Fitz-Eustace, see, the Scot has fir'd his tent, 
And now king James comes from his mountain throne. 
How they pour down ! — Howard is hasting on ; 
I see his lion-banner; and our lord, 
His falcon pennon flies, — They're at the foot. 
Brave souls ! by heav'n, they climb to meet the foe: — 
Highest our falcon soars: — they close : — St. George ! — 

[Music. 

Shouts — cannon. Clara shrinks hi terror. Fitz- 
Eustace still evincing his attention, yet discover- 
ing signs of impatience of his office. 

■* 
Blunt. The clouds rolls off, I see their lances' 

points; — 
Their falchions scatter lightning: — now they mingle, 
Fierce as contentious ocean. — Such a tempest 
Would make wreck welcome ! — On the sounding bil- 
low 
Floats the plum'd crest; above, the banners fly. — 
And now they sink; but still amid the storm 
Our falcon soars. — The Howard lion stoops, 
And TunstalPs banner, — yetour falcon flies! — {Music, 

[shouts zvithout r. h. u. e. — " a Home — a Gordon ."] 

*Tis fiercer still; — they force our standard back; — 
But it returns: — no pennon flies but ours! — 
Ha! death and hell! 'tis down. — Adieu, Fitz-Eustace. 

[Music. 

[rushes out, r. h. s. e. — shouts, fyc. 

Bus. Brave Blunt, he joins the fray; — he hews a 
passage. — 
The standard rises; — but again it stoops 
Amidst the thick'ning foe. — I cannot bear it; — . 



60 MARMION. ^Barker. 

And yet to leave the lady See, a steed, 

Hous'd all in blood, rushes this way. — I know it, 
>Tis Marmion's charger. — Lady, pardon me. [Music. 

[rushes out, r. h. s. e. — shouts — " a Huntly — a 
Home."] 

Cla. Alas! can the day's horror yet increase? 
Do my eyes fail me? No; it is the English 
Who turn their backs. — O, Wilton* art thou there! 
They cannot fly; they stop in wild despair; 
Thy shield alone can guard him; save my Wilton! 

[Music. 
She sinks near the cross, in a supplicating posture. 

Shouts. The tumult thickens; she starts up. 

Blunt and Fitz-Eustace bear in Marmion, n. h. 

2nd e. smeared with blood and dust ; his helmet 

beaten to his head, and without its crest; his 

shield hacked and dinted. A fragment of his 

sword grasped in his hand. They place him on a 

hillock near the l. h 

Ens. So: gently, Blunt. 

Blunt. Would roughness could arouse him ! 
This was his death-blow. 

Eus. Cease ! — he moves ! — 
[Marmion opens his eyes, and stares around wildly, ] 

Mar. Where am I ? 
How, dastards ! — leave my standard with the foe ! 
Charge to the rescue ! — hold ! what need of banner? 
No child succeeds my latest thought be Eng- 
land's 

The day may yet be turn'd — fly to earl Surrey — 
Tunstall is slain — but one of the brave Howards 
Is left to head the charge — thence to lord Dacres; 
Tell him to urge his horse with spur of fire. 
Blunt, speed you to the left — Stanley and Chester, — 
Bid them bring up their force, or all is lost. 
Linger ye still ! — hence ! — I can die alone : — 
Your hand that waits to close my fixing eye, 



Act V.] MARMION. 61 

May serve our country yet Reply not — fly ! [Music. 

Blunt and Fitz-Eustace depart r. h. 2nd e. Clara 
timidly approaches. 

Cla. God ! can this be haughty Marmion ! 

Mar. My throat is parch'd ; 0, for one blessed drop 
To cool death's raging fever — will no hand 
Do, to a dying man, that charity ? [Music. 

He swoons* Clara seizes his helmet, and filling it 
from the fount, bathes his temples. 

Mar* [reviving] What gentle hand is this? Is't 
thine, my Constance? — 
{sees Clara] 0, lady, listen — promise when I'm 

dead 

[Clara points to the cross.] 
I cannot waste my fleeting breath in pray'r. 
Constance, a nun — 

Cla. 0, think of your own soul^ 

Her's is beyond your care ; from Holy Isle, 
Thro' whit'ning penance, it has sped to heav'n. 
[Marmion starts up wildly.] 
Mar. Then it was true, and they have murder'd 
her. 
0, that the fiend who waits for my black soul, 
Would spare me but a day, an hour of vengeance. — 

Vain, vain ! I die 

Cla. Look on that cross, and let your contrite soul 
Go with my pray'rs. [Music] 

Mar. Blest Clare, I cannot pray ; 

Nought in my ear sounds but the voice of Constance, — 
Still floats before mine eyes her faded form. 

His eyes become fixed — alarm. Shouts, " a Stanley, 
a Chester." Music. Marmion's eyes brighten : 
he starts up. 

Mar. The day is ours. — Dacres, bring up the horse; 

Charge full upon the centre; Stanley, charge 

On, Chester, on ! victory, victory ! [Music] 

Waves the broken blade over his head: then sinks 

p 



62 MARMION. [Barker. 

zoith a groan. Shouts of victory. Flourish. 
March. Enter in triumph, Surrey, Wilton, fyc. 
with prisoners, r. h. u. e. Wilton and Clara fly 
into each others arms, Blunt and Fitz-Eustace 
bend over Marmion. 

Sur. Take up his honoured corse; he died a soldier: 
Let us forgive his fault. Wilton, forgive him. 

Wil. This hour, my lord, cancels my bond of hate 
With every foe. 

Sur. Has any one yet heard 

Of lady Heron ? 

Thorn. She was found, my lord, 

Dead, with a Scottish dirk still in her bosom. 

Wil. How certain is the fate of treachery! 
Here stay we the pursuit: the prime of Scotland, 
With their rash, gallant monarch, strew the plain. 
Let the poor straggling kerns flee to their homes, 
And over winter fires teach their pale issue 
To tremble at the name of Flodden field. 

Grand Flourish. 



THE END. 



Disposition of the Characters when the curtain falls 



OFFICERS. 




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CURTAIN. 



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publication, we subjoin the following list for their information : 



School for Scandal, 

Isabella, 

School of Reform, 

Every One has his Fault, 

Honey Moon, 

Sweethearts and Wives, 

Der Freyschutz, 



Mr. Warren as Sir Peter Teazle, 
Mrs. Barnes as Isabella. 
Mr. Hilson as Tyke. 
Mr. Jefferson as Solus. 
Mr. Wemyss as Rolando. 
Mr. Barnes as Billy Lackaday, 
Mrs. Burke as Bertha. 



New Way to Pay Old Debts, Mrs. Hilson as Margaret. 



Mr. Wood as Stephen Foster, 

Mr. Foote as Dr. Cantwell. 

Mr. Kean as Richard. 

Mrs. Darley as Amelia, 

Mr. Co well as Crack. 

Mrs. Cowell as Ophelia, 

Mr. Lee as Wilford. 

Mr. Roberts as Bob Logic. 

Mr. Thayer as My Lord Duke, 

Mrs. Waring as Morgiana. 

Mr. Forest as Rolla, 
These portraits are nearly all finished, and exertions will be 
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Mr, Cooper, Mr. Simpson, Mr. and Mrs. "Barrett, Mrs. Entwisle, 
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Woman Never Yext, 

Hypocrite, 

Richard the Third, 

Lovers Vo 

Turnpike Gate, 

Hamlet, 

Iron Chest, 

Tom and Jerry, 

High Life below Stairs, 

Forty Thieves, 

Pizarro, 



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Acting American Theatre already published. 

No. 1. Wild Oats, containing a Portrait of Mb. Francis. 

2. Much Ado About Nothing, Miss Kelly. 

3. Superstition, Mrs. Duff. 

4. Old Maid, Mrs. Francis. 

5. Marmion, Mr. Duff. 



LE SOUVENIR, 

OR PICTURESQUE POCKET DIARY FOR 1827. 

PUBLISHED BY A. R. POOLE, 66 CHESNUT STREET, 
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A. & M. have in press, THE BEAUTIES OF SIR WALTER 
SCOTT and THOMAS MOORE, Esq. selected from their works. 



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